


three times they didn't; one time they did

by freedomatsea



Series: Hell's Kitchen Universe Pieces [17]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, First Kiss, One of those x times they didn't y time they did fics, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 15:23:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8290787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomatsea/pseuds/freedomatsea
Summary: The three times Frank Castle and Karen Page did not have sex and the one time they did.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starzangelus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starzangelus/gifts).



> Prompted by my friend Diana.

 

* * *

**.one.**

* * *

 

It had been a close call. Then again, their lives were a series of close calls. They’d both had their fair share of near death experiences and given their pursuits in life, the list wasn’t going to end very soon. If ever, at least in Frank’s case. If he had it his way, Karen wouldn’t still be his accomplice in all of this. But letting go of her, wasn’t something he was really interested in doing. He cared about her too selfishly to see her out of his life. So she stayed. An intrinsic part of his existence.

They were friends, nothing more. He kept telling himself that. He was there to pick up the pieces when Matt got around to telling her -  perhaps the last person in their circle - that he was Daredevil. God had she been angry. Frank was just glad that it wasn’t his fault that Karen wanted to tear the world apart because she’d been wronged. He got it. He hated lies too. He tried to keep lies out of their lives because lies brought hate and he had enough of that in his life. He couldn’t have Karen Page - _his_ Karen Page - hating his guts. It just wouldn’t do.

They could have been something more than friends. He was very aware of the fact that one part of his body was acutely aware of the fact that they should have been _more_ than friends. But that fucked up head of his kept him in line. Karen Page was _just_ a friend. It made it easier that way. Because one day he’d inevitably lose her and he had enough reasons to hate the world already.

But God if he didn’t want to kiss her.

She looked so sweet kneeling beside him on her sofa as she tended to his broken nose. She was nattering on about how far the medical world had come and they still could do fuck all with keeping broken noses from looking crooked. He’d laughed it off with some lowly rumbled remark about how his nose was already crooked as ajax, it was too late for him.

Frank kept looking at those lips of hers. They were screaming to be kissed. Every time she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth he wanted it to be his teeth dragging over the rosy flesh, sucking it into his mouth. She had such gentle hands, tending to his battered face. And as much as he sat there, wishing he could just pull her onto his lap and devour her, he knew better.

Karen Page and Frank Castle would end in tragedy. Just like it had with Maria in the kids. He’d end up losing her and then, well _hell_ , he’d lose what was left of his humanity.

He got the hell out of there the second the last swash of blood was cleaned off his face. He was gone before she came back from her shower, because if he’d stayed one second longer he’d be in that shower with her fucking her into the tile until the neighbors complained.

* * *

  **.two.**

* * *

 

“You could have died.” Frank gritted out as he laid Karen down on her bed. “You should have waited for me.”

“I can’t just sit around and wait for you Frank. I have a job. Ellison assured me it was safe. It’s not the first time we’ve used the source.”

“Well Ellison was _wrong_.” Frank snapped, shooting Karen a frustrated look. “Don’t get me wrong, Karen, I appreciate the effort the both of you put into me, but one of these days…” He can’t even say the words because he’s too fucking angry. She already looks hurt and not just because she has a busted swollen lip and a gash across her jaw. She looks hurt at level that runs deeper than skin and tissue.

“I can take care of myself.” Karen pushed his hand away and climbed out of her bed. “You can go now Frank. I don’t need your help.”

“Karen you’re bleeding.” Frank frowned as she pushed past him, bee-lining straight for her bathroom. And Frank, being Frank put himself right between her and the door. “Look, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to -”

“Yes you did.” Karen narrowed her eyes at him, letting out a bitter laugh. “Don’t lie to me Frank. I know good and well that you meant exactly what you said. You wanted me to sit around and wait for you to get done with whatever hit you were taking care of instead of letting me just talk to my informant.”

“Your informant almost _killed_ you!”

“Your definition of _almost_ is a little skewed. I just got a little roughed up.” Karen gestured to her face, which admittedly wasn’t as bad as his usually ended up. But Karen wasn’t _him_. Karen didn’t need to be in positions where she was the target. “Look, it’s a couple scrapes Frank. I’ll live.”

“What if you hadn’t?” Frank barely made the words audible, but she heard them. It wasn’t like that fear wasn’t all over his face. Because fuck, if he’d walked in there and found her dead…

Karen’s hardened expression fell and she stepped closer to him. Too close. _Fuck_. He didn’t need her this close to him when he felt like this. It was truly enough to make him want to lose his mind. Because thinking of losing her and having her that close meant he wanted to pull her to his chest and kiss her till the sun came up.

“I know what it’s like to care about someone who is always in danger,” Karen said, her voice wavering  a little as she reached out to cup his cheeks. “But you don’t see me stopping you.”

Frank caved. His kissed her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest, his lips crashing into hers. He tasted the coppery tang of the blood on her lips as his tongue swept out over them. It had been awhile since he’d kissed anyone and he had a distinct feeling that he was doing it all wrong. She wasn’t kissing him back.

He started to pull back, already prepared to voice his apologies and vow to never come back again, but then her fingers were curling around the back of his head and he was sinking into the kiss all over again.

Inevitably they’d have to break apart. He’d crossed a line and it was wrong, but she tasted so good. Copper and coffee and something sweet like her touch. He was the one who broke away, fitting as he was the reason they came together at all.

Karen didn’t want him to go. He was pretty sure she was begging him not to go because she knew, like he knew, if he walked away now there was a chance he wouldn’t come back. But her words seemed far, far away. Like he was in a tunnel and she was at one end and he was running the other way. It was his head. He was all fucked up. He had other stuff to do. People to kill. Karen… he _couldn’t_. It was wrong by her even if it felt right by him.

Honestly, he didn’t know how he ended up back in his warehouse digs. It was all a whirl of adrenaline and desire and _fear_. He’d really fucked up.

* * *

**.three.**

* * *

It was two months before he saw Karen again. Intentionally. He had seen her quite a bit, but she’d been none the wiser. He kept close tabs on her and he knew she’d kill him if she ever found out. Sometimes her informants wouldn’t show, because Frank was one step ahead of her, squashing them out before they ended her. He really had to wonder why they didn’t screen their sources better at the paper.

Sometimes Karen ended up in a seedy part of the Bronx ready to talk to some junky with a cousin in the force who acted like he had some front page story spill and really he just wanted money for heroin and Karen was his prey. In those cases, Frank had her covered. Karen Page attracted danger or maybe she was addicted to it, which made sense because he’d been in her life after all.

Karen caught him trailing her one night. Chewed him up and spit out the pieces. Something about how if he couldn’t be a man and face her after a kiss, then he had no right to follow her and play hero behind her back. She had a point, he supposed. The guilt of running off had gnawed at him for weeks, but he’d never found the words to make it right.

When he started to leave, because he knew he’d fucked up, Karen had asked him to stay. He couldn’t say no. He owed it to her. How could he say no when her offer meant riding in her car, listening to Shining Star, and drinking coffee at a diner. He couldn’t even lie and say he hadn’t missed her, because he had. More than he had any right to. Two months without Karen had been rough. His psyche had suffered without her breathing life into his dead soul.

Nothing happened. Even when she dropped him off at the warehouse he called home: they parted ways with simple goodbyes.

* * *

**.four.**

* * *

They fell right back into the swing of things. Karen was a natural accomplice to all that he did. She helped him in whatever way was possible and got him the information he needed to piece together his hits. He knew one masked vigilante in the city that hated it too. Red was still hellbent on justice and Karen was thorough, when she got done with her work, there was little wiggle room in Frank’s death sentences for them. Once he got his target he was locked into place until it was done.

Daredevil was the one that got to him this time. Honestly, Frank was thankful that Red was a little off his game because of Karen, otherwise he’d probably be sporting a shattered eye socket instead of just a killer bruise.

“What really happened up there, Frank?” Karen questioned as she wiped at his face with a warm, wet cloth. “I can’t picture Matt doing all of this because of Vickers. I mean, sure the bastard should have his day in court, but you could have ended it all tonight. We know he’s guilty.”

Frank shrugged. “Guess he’s been looking for a good punching bag.” It hurt a little to laugh, his ribs a little bruised but he’d had worse. It barely hurt, relatively speaking.

“You’re _lying._ ” Karen shook her head, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Yeah.” Frank admitted, his eyes clenching closed as he tried to gather his words. “ _Fuck_.” He breathed out, catching her hands as they still cleaned up the mess that was his face, holding them still. “Look. This ain’t _easy_ for me to admit, because honestly I’m feeling a little ashamed. Might be a hell of a story for you to run though. Names changed of course.”

Karen’s brows knit together and God if he didn’t want to just kiss away those worry lines that were all named Frank Castle.

He let out a heavy sigh, “Matt mentioned you up there. It set me off. Him too I guess.” He made a disgusted face. “So run that story. The Daredevil and the Punisher face off in an epic rooftop battle because they’re both in love with the same damn woman.”

“Matt’s not in love with me.” Karen said quickly and he can see the wheels turning in her eyes as she realizes the meaning of those words.

“Maybe not now, but he did. At least the idea of you.” Frank pinched at the severely bruised bridge of his nose. It’s definitely broken. It’s sore as fuck and he can focus on that instead of Karen because Karen is looking at him in a way that begs of so much more than he can even offer her.

“But _you_ … You did or do?” Karen can’t even seem to wrap those words around her head.

“Do.” His teeth clenched tightly together as the word slipped past his lips. How the hell have they gotten to this point? One kiss four months ago and now he’s in love with her? Shit, Frank Castle has gone soft. “Look Karen… I can’t even promise you that I do. I don’t even know if I can love. That part of me got fucked up.” He tapped the side of his head, near where the scar from the bullet was. “Maybe I got it all wrong. Maybe what I think is love is just that I don’t -”

“Shut up.” Karen whispered and despite the soft spoken nature of the words he obeys them because she has that look in her eyes which could very well be deadly if he says the wrong thing. He wasn’t really going to take the words back, despite how it sounded. He just wanted to prepare her for the fact that he’s not so certain he can love anymore. Love hurts. Love killed him once and she’s brought him back to life enough for him to feel it all over again and he can’t lose it again. He can’t lose Karen.

Frank wasn’t even sure who initiated it. Because Karen was slipping into his lap and his fingers were tangled in her hair and somewhere in between their lips met and everything else fell away. It was different than last time. He’s more prepared this time. He’s ready to meet that rush of panic in his chest and face it head on. Karen quells those demons with a single roll of her hips. When his blood’s rushing to his cock, his thoughts aren’t rushing through his mind.

He’s damaged goods, but so is Karen. She’s fucked up in her own ways and she’s just much better at keeping it all under wraps.

Part of him feels like a teenager again as he laid her out on her sofa and draped himself over her, letting his hard muscles rest against her soft curves. There’s nothing better than the feel of her legs wrapped around his waist, at least not yet. He has a feeling the best is yet to come as he pops the buttons of her blouse loose.

All the pain ceases to matter when he gets her shirt off and her bra and Karen is lying beneath him, bare chested, in all her glory. His mouth is hungry at her breast, his hand enveloping them other, his thumb matching the swirl of his tongue around her nipple as he drew them into stiff little peaks.

Karen’s fingers are tangled in his hair where it’s grown longer over the months and he’s certain he’ll never shave it short if it always feels that good to have her tugging at his scalp. The best feeling though is when her hand slipped between where they’re grinding against each other and she worked his pants open and he no longer had to imagine what her hand wrapped around his cock felt like.

“ _Fuck._ ” Frank hissed out, rocking his hips in time with the slow drag of her hand along his length and he had to stop her, catch her wrist, and keep her from ending it all far too soon. How fucking embarrassing would that be? Then he really would have felt like a teenager all over again. Fuck that.

He sat back, hauling her legs up so he could get her underwear off and discarded somewhere on the floor. He didn’t care about anything else. Frank dipped down to catch her lips, groaning at the neediness of her response as he lined himself up with her.

Karen’s cry was swallowed up by his lips as he slid into her. It had been a long time coming to this moment. Her nails bit into his shoulders, clinging to him as they started to move together. She wrapped a leg around his hips, using the other to meet his movements.

It didn’t last nearly as long as he wished it would. He was too keyed up and so was she. He might have come off as a brute, but he wasn’t one in moments like this. He didn’t find his own release until he’d coaxed her over the edge.

And then it was over. It was over far too fast. But just because it was over didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen again. Because he’d admitted it to her, that he cared for her more than as just a friend. Sure, people loved their friends, but they both knew that wasn’t what he meant. And she didn’t have to say the words out loud, because he knew Karen Page well enough to know that this was no fleeting moment for her. This was more than a simple fuck to get the tension between them out of the way.

Karen brushed her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as he sank down against her, pressing her into the sofa beneath her and she didn’t seem to care. She held him tighter, her arm wrapped around his middle, holding him in place. She grounded him, in a very real way. With her, he felt human. With her, he never felt like the monster he was painted out to be.


End file.
